"Fall in! Fall in!" The stormers form, in silence, stern and grim,
Each heart full-beating out the time to Freedom's battle hymn.—
"Charge! en Avant!"—The word goes forth and forth the stormers go,
Each column like a mighty shaft shot from a mighty bow.
And tumult rose upon the night like sound of roaring seas,
Mars drank of the Horn of Ulphus and he drained it to the lees!
Now by fair Freedom's splendid dreams! it was a gallant sight
To see the blows against the foes well struck that Autumn night!
Gimat, and Fish, and Hamilton, and Laurens pressed the foe,
And Olney—brave Rhode Islander!—was there, alas! laid low.
Viominil, and Noallies, and Damas, stout and brave,
Broke o'er the English right redoubt a steel-encrested wave.
St. Simon from his sick couch rose, wooed by the battle's charms,
And like a knight of old romance went to the shock of arms.
[But they who bore the muskets, who went charging thro' the flame,
Deserve far more than ever will be given them by Fame—
Then let us pour libations out!—full freely let them flow
For the men who bore the muskets here a century ago!]
And, then, the columns won the works, and then uprose the cheers
That have lasted us and ours for a good one hundred years!